


First

by s0ymilk



Series: Above the Deep [2]
Category: Fallout 3
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, Smut, Sorry this didn't fit in the story, Vaginal Fingering, ghoulsex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 07:36:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6229402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s0ymilk/pseuds/s0ymilk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gal and Charon finally give their shared bed a proper christening. (F!LW/Charon)</p>
            </blockquote>





	First

**Author's Note:**

> Just FYI, this is a companion fic to 'Above the Deep'. It probably can be read as stand-alone, but... you should read AtD anyway. Support your writers!
> 
> Warning 1: There's something like a panic attack in here, in case that's a trigger for you.  
> Warning 2: I've written exactly two lemons (do people still call them that?) in my writing career, so this is still new to me. Feedback appreciated.

Gal is really, really glad that Sophia has a date. Not because she didn’t want to see her - she’s really come to like the girl - but because it’s been a long few days’ travel back to Megaton from the Citadel and the only thing Gal’s been able to think about is Charon. Charon’s lips, Charon’s eyes, Charon’s big hands and broad chest and - Charon’s everything, pretty much.

Sure, they’d taken some risks on the way - letting her hands linger as they were walking, stealing kisses at night after they’d secured an area. But the Wasteland is not a place to get complacent, so everything they’ve done has been pretty chaste.

Gal doesn’t want to be chaste anymore. She wants to strip some clothes off and get her hands (and other body parts) all over his skin. She’s almost died at least six times since she figured out she was in love with him, dammit, she deserves this.

The minute she hears the front door close behind Sophia from their spot up in Charon’s room, the atmosphere changes. It thickens, gains a sense of urgency, like it’s just waiting for something to begin. Gal knows exactly what that something is.

She strips off her armour and throws it into the corner of the room with even more satisfaction than usual, until she’s left in nothing but a loose shirt and pants. Charon is already similarly stripped down. He smiles and moves towards the pile, clearly planning to clean it up, but Gal catches him by the hand and tugs him back.

“That can wait until later.” she says pointedly. “Let’s take advantage of our empty house, hm?”

“No complaints here.” Charon replies. He leans over and kisses her languidly. Slowly, Gal backs up until her calves hit the bed. She pulls him down and they sprawl into a heap across the covers, still kissing.

She moves her hands up and down his chest and along his biceps, letting her fingers drag along the rough skin and muscle she finds there and enjoying the texture. Charon doesn’t reciprocate; he has one hand flat on the bed to hold himself up, and the other is holding gently onto her collar, bare knuckles just barely brushing her skin. At her insistence he lets go of the cloth and traces his fingertips across her shoulder to rest on her arm lightly.  The faint touch causes goosebumps up and down her arm. She smiles up into his kiss and slowly he pulls away, both of them panting.

“...was that okay?” he asks after a moment, looking a bit dazed. His pupils are blown wide with arousal, a mirror of hers, she’s sure. A quick glance down confirms that he’s enjoying the physical contact, and possibly feeling more uncomfortable than usual in his thick canvas trousers.

“Very okay. But it would be more okay with less clothes.” she says. One hand splayed across his chest, she pushes him off so she can sit up and hooks her fingers under the hem of her shirt, pulling it off in one swift movement. It gets tossed off into the rest of the room carelessly.

For all the enthusiasm he’d showed just a few moments ago, the minute her shirt touches the floor he looks far more uncertain about what’s happening here. Gal had sort of expected that, and planned accordingly. Before he can escape, she throws a leg over his body and settles into his lap, leaning in for another kiss.

“Let me help you with that.” she murmurs. Kissing him softly, she drags her hands down his cloth-covered chest and towards his waist. They slide over the hem of his shirt as she nibbles on his lip, and then slowly push the fabric out of the way to rest on bare skin.

There’s a slight pause as she does. She remembers the time he’d been injured in the Memorial, the first time she’d ever seen him bare-skinned. He’d been even tenser then, like a trapped animal baring its teeth. Keeping that in mind, her hands go slow, palms dragging in reassuring circles on his skin as she distracts him with long kisses. The shirt moves upward, over his rippled stomach, past his chest. Then she has to break the kiss to pull it over his head. She wants to look down and take it all in, but instead she looks him straight in the eye and smiles.

“This okay?” she asks softly. He takes the shirt from her, looks at it for a moment, and then flings it away.

“Yeah.” he replies quietly.

She picks one large hand up, and then the other, and sets them on her hips in a wordless command. Gentle pressure gets the idea across, and he lets his fingers brush over her sides reverently, startling a little giggle out of her.

“Sorry,” she apologizes, “I’m a little ticklish.”

He snorts but keeps up his exploring. His hands make it up her waist but stop at the bottom of her bra. Gal quickly reaches back to undo it, with a sigh of relief as her breasts are freed. She tries to toss the bra over her shoulder like no big deal, just as she’d done with it shirt, but Charon looks more unsure than ever now, and doesn’t even look down at the skin she’s bared.

“Charon.” she says, voice tight with want. “Touch me. Please. I want you to.”

He doesn’t move right away. Instead, he looks down at her, shirtless and settled on his lap, large hands splayed across her ribs possessively. He inhales sharply and squeezes gently on her waist, maybe feeling how small it is in comparison to his hands. Then, _finally,_ his hands move.

The tips of his fingers slide just under her breasts, and then up the sides. Her nipples pebble up almost instantly. The breath hitch that comes out involuntarily from her must be the permission he needs, because he finally cups one breast in his hand and runs his thumb over its rosy bud.

Gal has to clamp down really hard to keep herself from pushing at the slow pace they’re taking. She’s used to being the one that wants to slow down. Still, the careful way he’s exploring her, like it’s taking all his concentration, is pretty arousing. He looks entranced by every inch of skin she has on display. It’s like Gal is a puzzle he has yet to figure out, and he’s looking for the right switch.

She could tell him where it is… but that would spoil the fun.

Instead, she spreads her legs wider and rocks her hips a little bit, just enough to send a jolt through her lower regions, just enough to watch him bite back a groan. His grip tightens on her rib cage. He leans forward into the crook of her neck, heavy breath hot on her skin, and rolls his hips back into hers.

From there, the careful touching devolves immediately. Charon nips at her exposed neck a few times as Gal runs her hands over the ridged planes of his chest. Then, suddenly, he bites down, and the pain makes her first yelp, then moan lowly. He licks at the bruised spot in apology, but the way he flicks his thumb over the tips of her breasts is merciless. Her hips move in a relentless rhythm, desperate for relief. The bulge in his pants hits just the right spot, but there’s still too much fabric in between them.

Gal scrabbles for the button on his trousers one-handed, the other hand busy tracing a rip in the flesh of his bicep. It takes a few times but she gets it open. She gets to press her hand against the cloth-covered stiff flesh inside for only a split second

Charon growls - _growls_ \- against her throat, before he flips her over onto the mattress and settles back on top. This time, there’s no space between them. For a few moments, he covers her mouth with his own and thrusts heavily against her hips. Then he’s fumbling for his waistband, pushing both pants and underwear down hurriedly, and only once they’re out of the way does he turns his attention to her own clothing.

She helps him fumble the belt open and slide the jeans down her thighs, but it’s a difficult process with him just barely able to hold back and her hungry for a glimpse of the skin he’s bared. She kicks the jeans off, feels him slide back into place between her legs, and then two large fingers slip under the side of her panties and tug. Charon’s pupils are blown even wider than before, and his breath is coming in heavy pants, just like hers.

With a snap, the delicate cloth of her panties rips right down the side until one hip is left completely bare.

Gal’s not surprised - they’re a little old, and not exactly what she would have picked for her first time with Charon - but the hand on her hip freezes suddenly. She looks up, and sees Charon’s eyes locked on the ripped fabric, fluttering as she draws in shallow, quick breaths.

He’s gone from his spot in between her legs as quickly as he appeared there. Stumbling back a few steps, he takes in her near-naked state with wide eyes. Gal pushes herself up to a sitting position with her chest still heaving, aware that things have instantaneously gone downhill.

“Charon - Charon! Are you okay?” she asks. Charon stumbles a few more steps back and turns away, but not before she sees a flash of something in his eyes that doesn’t belong in the bedroom.

Fear, maybe. Shame. Common looks for Charon, and instantly recognizable. If the look on his face isn’t enough, she can see the way the rest of his body rejects the situation too. But he makes no move to hide anything. Just turns his face away, as if trying to hide her own nakedness from his sight.

“Shit…fuck...” he says through clenched teeth. One hand fists at his side, fingernails digging into his palms.

“It’s okay.” Gal says softly to him, climbing slowly to her feet. The torn scrap of fabric clings to one hip still, so she shoves it down quickly and pushes it under the bed where it can’t be seen before she approaches the ghoul slowly.

“Flashbacks?” she asks, stopping just before him. He’s still facing away, but she sees him nod tersely. Slowly, she places on hand on his arm, and then moves it to his back to rub soothing circles into the bunched muscles there, ignoring the way his whole body jerks away from her fingertips.

“I’m sorry...I should have known that would be too much. We should have kept it slow.”

Charon doesn’t look at her, but his arm lifts from his side a little, an invitation, and she ducks under to slot herself against him, one arm slung around his waist. His eyes are closed, and the slow state of his breathing is affected. She can feel the way his pulse is hammering. Still, his fingertip starts tracing small circles on her shoulder, which is a good sign.

“I should have known I would fuck that up.” he says finally.

His voice is tight. Gal squeezes his waist in sympathy.

“You didn’t fuck anything up. It’s a natural response.” she soothes.

Her eyes drift back to the bed, mussed from their exertions, and thinks.

“Could we… try again? I think I have an idea.” she asks hesitantly.

Charon shrugs, but he still doesn’t look at her. His hand stills on her shoulder.

“Charon. Look at me.”

It takes an eternity, but finally, Charon’s heads tilts down to look at her. His face is like stone. Gal, never one to be put off by his blank face, forges ahead anyway.

“We can make this work. We’ll find a way to make it good. For both of us.” she says. Charon doesn’t look convinced, but when she slips out from under his arm, he allows her to drag him back to the bed and sits down when she gestures, eyes carefully anywhere but on her.

“Lay down.” she commands. Those ice-blue eyes swivel back to her, suspicious. She puts a hand on his chest and presses.

He obliges. Gal follows him up onto the mess of blankets, laying down on one side of him but careful not to crowd. Charon’s body shows his unease just as his face does; his penis, completely flaccid, lays against thigh and shows no interest in the breasts pushed up against his ribs.

Gal leans over him and smiles, her hair falling to both sides of his frowning face.

“If you want me to stop, tell me. We’ll pick this up again another day if we have to.” she murmurs against his lips. Then she kisses him, chaste and slow.

For a long moment, he doesn’t respond. She forges on, resolute, and finally the lips under hers soften and Charon kisses back. She gives him a few long minutes of that, just short flicks of her tongue and one hand pressed against the side of his face. Then she moves her mouth down to his strong jawline, tracing the uneven skin and ducking lower to bite at his pulse. He tastes like salt and copper.

She stops at that spot on his neck that he likes and sucks a little, but keeps the pace slow and the touches gentle to avoid a repeat of what just happened. Charon takes in a quiet breath, but that’s the only response.

Her hand scopes out the territory before her mouth does. It traces down his collarbone and follows a cord of exposed muscle onto his chest. She chases it with light kisses interspersed with long, slow licks, and finds that he likes it when she tongues her way along the rips in his skin. A few soft groans follow, and his hips shift on the bed. She dares a glance down the length of his body and finds that she’s started to catch his attention again.

She pauses briefly to roll one nipple around in her mouth, her hand already pressing down the hard muscles in his stomach, and continues on. She’s moving just a little bit faster now, but still relatively slow and even. Charon reaches out and brushes one hand through her hair, clenches, and then lets go.

She’s lavishing kisses on the sharp edge of his hipbone when he groans her name.   
  
“Gal…” he says helplessly, then again, “Gal...wait…”

She glances over, but his cock is still red and thick. When she glances up, Charon looks almost as debauched as before, ripped lips red from kissing and a dark bruise just starting to appear on his neck.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asks, half-disappointed that he’s going to say yes. But Charon shakes his head.

“No...just… you sure you want to do this? I don’t want this to fuck you up either. Don’t feel like you have to.” he says softly. Gal looks back at the place she’s been making her way towards, recalls being tied up and pulled to her knees roughly by a filthy slaver, and shakes her head.

“It’s not the same.” she says resolutely, then tries to explain. “It’s...well… it’s different. I want to. Because it’s _you._ ”

That’s the best she can come up with, so she just shrugs helplessly. Charon’s eyes soften, and that half-smile appears on his face, tugging the edge of his mouth back.

“Alright.” he says, and lays back.

Gal leans back down and runs her tongue down the edge of his hipbone again. She feels the slide of something warm and velvety on her cheek, which brings a real, loud groan from Charon that vibrates the skin under her. Feeling accomplished, Gal pulls back a little bit to admire the sight before her.

If there was ever a question about how Charon’s size stacked up to his height, there’s not one now. His cock is long and thick. The skin is remarkably intact compared to the rest of his body. A long thread of precum stretches from where it juts proudly away from his body to the flat plane of his abdomen; before Gal knows what she’s doing, she’s reached down and severed the string with her tongue.

She can see from the corner of her eye that Charon has his head thrown back into the pillow, eyes closed. His arms are stretched over his head, gripping the headboard with white knuckles.

Completely at her mercy. She likes that.

Really, Gal is just guessing at what will and won’t trigger Charon’s memories, but she thinks that this is safe. There’s no force or coercion here; just Gal willingly leaning her body into Charon’s, and Charon lying back and letting himself fall apart, his hands stretched overhead so they can’t interfere with what she’s doing.

Tentatively, she leans in and exhales a hot breath over the tip of Chaon’s cock, leaning back when he thrusts into the air, searching for relief. It’s been a long time since she’d done this last, and then… well…

It has been a _smaller_ task then.

The first touch of her mouth to him has Charon cursing at the ceiling and shuddering. She takes this part slow too; just the barest touch of her mouth to the tip, the sides, the base, before she presses the flat of her tongue to him and drags it up. He shifts underneath her, but the touch of her hand to his hip stills him again.

She lays a kiss to his slit and tastes the beads of pre-cum in her mouth, salty and earthy at once. It’s so inherently Charon that she can’t even begin to compare it to her last experience. Emboldened, she opens her mouth and lets the tip slip in between her lips. Charon starts and nearly lets go of the headboard but catches himself at the last moment and keeps his hands where they are.

She rolls him around in her mouth, flattens her tongue against him, and sucks gently, seeing what responses she can garner, what he likes best. When she slides down farther onto his cock, he lets out an impressive stream of curses; when she shifts her weight so she can wrap her other hand around the base of his cock, the curses become incoherent sounds that tighten things deep between her legs. She wants nothing more but to throw a leg over and sink down on top of him, but that would be too much. Instead, she bobs down as far as she can go and hums. Charon releases the headboard and buries his hands in the mess of blankets instead.

“Gal… fuck… _Gal,_ I’m going to - I can’t -”

His voice is so guttural, so _wrecked,_ that she can’t help but tilt her head and look up at him to see the expression on his face. He looks down at just the same time, desperate, and meets her eyes; then his whole body flinches and the warm length in her mouth pulses once, twice, again and again, filling her mouth as he lets out one last groan. When the last jerks have stopped, and he slumps back into the bed, she pulls off and scrabbles for the bedside table, pulling down a glass so she can spit her mouthful into it. The taste is unpleasant, but the look of contentment on Charon’s face is worth it.

She crawls back up to slide in next to him, ignoring the sensitivity and urgency between her legs. She’s not going to push on this; she’s going to let Charon set the pace. They don’t have any purifiers to save or missions to finish or long trips to make to anywhere. They have all the time in the world.

“That was fun.” she says, nuzzling at his neck. He hums wordlessly in response and wraps his arm around her shoulder. Once his breathing settles, and the flush fades from his cheeks, he looks more at ease than she’s ever seen him. His sigh is long and contented.

Gal responds by flinging a leg over his body and an arm over his chest. It feels good to snuggle up against someone, and doubly good to do it naked. Gal sort of wants to just crawl on top of him and see how much of her skin she can press to his at once. Her body still feels overly hot and sensitive; the proximity, while nice, isn’t cooling down the problem.

“Not sure I’ve ever heard a woman describe it as fun before.” he says back, toying with a strand of her hair.

“It’s fun when you’re doing it with someone you lo - like. With someone you like.”

She’s 100% certain that Charon would normally catch the slip, but he looks like the vigorous exercise they’ve just done has slowed him down a bit. Just as well. It’s a little early to be making confessions as big as love.

She comes out of her thoughts to find her hips pressing insistently against him, trying to find some relief for the pressure between her legs. She stills them immediately and flushes.

“Sorry.” she mutters, embarrassed.

“Don’t be.” Charon murmurs back. Turning onto his side, he traces one large hand down past her waist. It pauses at her hip, and then slowly slides down the front of her leg. She ducks her head to hide her flush, but lets her knees fall apart anyway.

The first light brush of his fingers against the hair over her labia makes her shiver. Then he presses in with just one finger. It’s enough to slide in just a little bit, and make her gasp, but he doesn’t go any further. Instead, he pulls his hand completely away. The finger he holds up is shiny and slick from her wetness.

“You really did enjoy that.” he says, his voice dropping lower and more guttural as he examines the finger. Then, as she watches, he brings the finger to his mouth and licks it. The heat pulsing through her body kicks up about a thousand degrees.

“Don’t tease, please.” she whines breathlessly. She wants desperately to press her hand against herself. Charon props himself up one one elbow and lays his hand on her thigh again with a wry smile. Between his teasing and the surety of his movements, she sees how he watches her reactions carefully; how he hesitates just a minute to see if she’ll pull away from his hand. How he searches her eyes to make sure there’s no flickers of - what? Uncertainty? Disgust? - there.

“Is it okay to tease if I follow through?” he asks. She doesn’t answer, just grabs his hand and pushes it along.

Charon doesn’t bother with soft touches or slow advances. He parts the folds of her labia swiftly and lets the tips of his fingers drag some of her wetness up and over her bud. Thumb flicking over the sensitive skin lightly, another finger slides  part way into her opening and wiggles a little bit, waiting for her to adjust. Gal’s already at a loss for words and he’s only been touching her for thirty seconds.

“You’ve gotta be fucking crazy, smoothskin. I’ve never seen someone get so wet for ghoul cock before.” He muses, as a second finger follows the first and thrusts lightly. Charon sets a quick pace with his hand, thrusting and scissoring to stretch her open gently, and then pulling out to flick at her clitoris for a few moments for before plunging back in. Gal lets out a shaky moan and covers her face with one hand.

“Seriously? You talk ...dirty in bed? I thought you… hn….I thought you hadn’t done this - oh -  in a while.”

Charon responds by crooking his fingers and pressing against something inside her that makes her whole body seize up.

“It’s like riding a bicycle. You never forget how.” he says, leaning in to kiss her again. The way his tongue explores her mouth while his fingers thrust into her is obscene. She whimpers into his mouth and he responds by leaning down to suck on her neck instead. His hands shifts below; two of his fingers crook insider her, hitting that spot again and again, while the palm of his hand presses against her clit. Combined with his tongue and his teeth on her neck, it’s almost an overload of sensation.

She couldn’t tell him to stop even if she wanted to, though. Words are beyond her at this point. So she does exactly what he needs her to do; she lets her head sink back onto the mattress and gives all the control over to him.

“You’re so fucking wet. Tell me how good it feels.” he commands. His voice has dropped a few decibels, even rougher than normal. When she lets out a wordless whimper, his hand slows its steady rhythm. She whines at the loss and her fingers scrabble over his skin, looking for something to hold on to.

“Charon, please don’t - don’t stop. It feels _good,_ so good, Charon, please - again -”

It must be enough for him. He picks up the pace again. Gal feels the pleasure inside her building, almost to the peak, but not quite.

“What’s my name.” Charon demands. Gal tries, but it comes out incoherent. “ _Gal._ What’s my name.”

She looks up into his eyes. His gaze is firm and serious, and _possessive._ She can’t look away. She’s already done for.

“ _Charon._ ” she whispers, and tips over that edge.

His fingers slow as she shakes one, twice, a dozen times. The waves of pleasure seem to be never-ending; every time she thinks they’re ebbing, his fingers twitch and another pulse wracks her body. She forces her eyes open to look up into his, and that too causes a new wave to take hold. The possession she’d glimpsed before softens and morphs into tenderness. _You did this to me,_ she tries to say with her look. _It’s always been you._

By the time she comes down from her high, his hand is motionless, just pressing lightly while she catches her breath. Once she’s still, he pulls his fingers out slowly. Her core twinges a little bit, but it’s too spent to get aroused again just yet. She can’t do much but rest, and breathe for a moment - until she feels his weight shift on the bed.

“ _You_ ” she says, throwing her arms around his torso before he can roll out of bed like she knows he was planning, “Are not going anywhere. Don’t even try it.”

He grumbles half-heartedly, but wipes his wet fingers on his thigh and curls his arm around her as she wiggles her way up to a comfortable position. Orgasms always leave her sleepy; though it’s only probably six or seven in the evening, she could easily fall asleep right now. Both of them are sticky, and desperately in need of a shower. It doesn’t seem to be enough to get her moving right now, though.

“That was good.” She mumbles into his skin. “See how good my ideas are?”

She can feel his raised eyebrow even with her eyes closed.

“How _bad,_ you mean? You’re fucking crazy. I hope you know the reciprocation was an apology for what you just did to yourself.” He says gruffly. Gal makes a face and looks up to him. He looks a little uneasy.

“...did to myself…?” She questions. Charon darts a glance at her and then down at his flaccid cock, and Gal makes the connection.

“Charon. What are you talking about.” She asks flatly, suddenly very, very worried. They hadn’t really... _discussed_ this part very much. Gal had sort of assumed that they didn’t need to, but...there are definitely questions she should have asked before jumping into this. Ghouls are incredibly irradiated, she should have known that there could be side effects. How could she not have expected that, she’s a _doctor’s daughter -_   
  
Wait. Nova had never mentioned side effects. Nova would have said something.

She looks up. Charon is watching her panic with a smug look.

“You _asshole.”_ She says, mock-angry, pinching him on the arm. “I _believed you,_ you jerk. Just for that, no more of _this_ for you for at least a week.”

Charon snorts in disbelief and tugs her close again.

“A week without getting off. Because I’ve never fucking done _that_ before.”

She rolls over on top of him and wiggles, so that certain stiffening parts of him slide against certain slick parts of her. Charon lets out a soft noise and wraps his hands around her hips.

“I’ll make sure this time around, it’s a little more difficult for you.” Gal replies vindictively.

\--

They don’t make it a week. They don’t even make it an hour.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to mention (is this okay?) that I'm totally open for FO4/FO3 prompts if anybody would like to give me ideas. As always, thanks for reading!


End file.
